The Dean’s Office (Part 6)

Read Part 5 of the Dean’s Office

Dr. Smith hid a bottle of whisky in one of the cabinets in his office. This morning, he took some ice cubes from the freezer compartment of his tabletop fridge and put them in a mug. He preferred to drink from a mug to prevent any nosey colleague or student who may budge into the office from detecting the content. He poured the whisky, sat on the chair and placed his long legs on the table. He swirled the drink in the mug before gulping it down. He knew it was only 7:30 am and drinking on an empty stomach was not healthy but he couldn’t help it.

Shirley – the thoughts of that woman never seem to leave him. What started as a joke in the dean’s office is now gnarling at his whole being. He now yearns for her as he had never done before. This feeling is new to him. He hasn’t felt anything this strong for any woman. In the past, he deceived women to get what he ‘wanted’ but the feeling he is developing for his co-worker is new. It’s not only about her looks or the manner that she carries herself – there is something about her that he cannot point out. He wants her in a way that scares him and would not mind doing anything to get her. He does not doubt that he is in love with her. Someone’s wife.

Dr. Smith’s phone rang and interrupted his thoughts and speaking of the object of his fantasy,

“Hello, Shirley. I was thinking about you,” he said

“I hope they were good thoughts,”

“It depends on what you mean by good thoughts. Anyway, have you made any decision about my proposal? Is that why you’re calling?”

“I am calling to remind you that it’s your turn to facilitate tomorrow’s seminar for the graduate students,” she said.

“I know. I have it in my diary,”

“Great. Do you want to have dinner with me sometime next week? Will Monday be ok?”

Dr. Smith couldn’t believe his luck. He wasn’t expecting that. Was he hearing clearly? It’s a joke. Oh, Finally! Shirley is coming around.

“Wow! Of course. Of course,” he said

“So 5 pm, next week Monday, at the University’s Lodge. They have a new restaurant that serves only local dishes,”

“Yes, I know about it,”

“I have a surprise for you as well. Remember to look and smell nice,” Shirley laughed teasingly before hanging up.

“Whoop! Whoop!”

Dr. Francis Smith got up to do the victory dance. He couldn’t believe his luck.

***************

Sundays are used to be special. That was the only day in the week the family drove together in the same car – Shirley would be in the passenger seat, the children at the back and I will be driving them to church. The conversations were light and the gospel tunes played on the radio always serenaded the atmosphere while we made the half-hour journey.

I still haven’t gotten over what Shirley did to me the other day. The atmosphere was conducive for us to have gotten intimate till she came up with that lame excuse. She neither apologised nor said anything about the incident when she returned from work.

“That is my current favourite track,” Shirley said, reaching forward to increase the volume of the radio.

Ye obua mi, ye obua mi,” she sang along to Joe Mettle’s new tune with her eyes closed.

“Have you heard that song before?” she asked.

I kept my focus on the road and ignored her question. She caught the drift and kept mute with her question still hanging in the air. I clutched the steering wheel as I made the sharp turn. I am sure my jaws and knuckles were equally clenched. I stepped on the brakes abruptly when the church’s security team directed me to park. I got out of the car, waited for the children and escorted them to the Sunday School. When I returned, I didn’t bother looking for Shirley. On a regular Sunday, I would have preferred sitting right by her and during the sermon, I would hold her hand. Sometimes I passed comments about how nice her hair was or how pretty she looked. It was such a beautiful feeling but this Sunday is different. I’ve been hurt by her actions and I prefer to sit as far away from her as possible. If she wants to pretend everything is fine between us, that is ok. She should continue living in her dream. She has called for war and that is exactly what I am going to give her.

…….to be continued.

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The Dean’s Office (Part 5)

Read Part 4 of The Dean’s Office.

“Can you believe that? He proposed we start a relationship and if it works, I could leave Jimmy and get married to him,”

“What won’t I hear in this world?” Adwoa, my best friend asked.

“He is really attractive but his boldness scares me,” I said.

“I always hear that people with high IQs have some form of mental illness and this may be a classic case,” Adwoa said, in between laughs.

“Don’t say that,” I reprimanded but couldn’t stop laughing at her assumptions.

Adwoa and I have known each other since Senior High School. We were in the same house and dormitory but while I read Business, Adwoa was a Visual Arts student. We met again at the University and somehow found ourselves in the same Hall. Even though we’ve been best friends, Adwoa and I are as different as night and day. I have always been studious while Adwoa knew how to create the right balance – she studied when she had to and partied hard as well. She has been the life of every party and somehow managed to pull me along to most of the events she was invited to.

“We need to meet for lunch one of these days,” I heard Adwoa say.

“Yes. We need to.”

“I could come over to campus. We could go to the staff cafeteria. Who knows? We may bump into the sexy Dr. Smith who has been eyeing my m-a-r-r-i-e-d friend,” she said bursting into laughter once again.

“Don’t be like that, Adwoa,” I said feigning sadness and hoping Adwoa could catch the tone over the phone and stop teasing, “I could introduce you both. Two single crazy people.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all. Let’s meet for lunch and make sure to introduce me to that hunk of yours,” Adwoa said.

“Sure. We’ll talk later,” I said and hanged up.

***************

“Oh Jimmy, you shouldn’t have gone through this length just to surprise me,” I said.

“It’s been a while since we did anything like this. You’ve been busy,” Jimmy said.

“I know and there was no need for you to remind me,”

“Ok. Haven’t you been busy? Anyway, let’s not spoil the moment with this argument – I only decided to surprise you with this brunch basket and what do we have here?” Jimmy asked as we walked around to the other side of the table to shift the cover of the cane basket to reveal its content.

“There are crepes, toasted bread, vegetable salad, ham, baguette, freshly squeezed orange and pineapple fruit juices, grapes, spicy chicken wings and what again do we have? Red velvet cake. Wow. I know you’re going to love this cake. There is enough to feed you and your colleagues. You don’t have to go out for lunch today,” Jimmy said.

“This is really beautiful and thoughtful. I truly appreciate it,” I said.

“Are you going to try any of the items in the basket or you are going to stand there and cry?”

He took the disposable knife and cut a thin slice of cake onto a plate and put it in front of me. He then walked quickly to the door to fasten the latch. Jimmy came around the desk to where I sat, bent over and gave me a kiss – gently at first. He held my hands and pulled me up towards him and kissed me again. He pulled me tighter into his arms and looked into my eyes.

“I miss you. I miss my wife. I miss this and I miss us,” he said almost breathlessly. He continued kissing me while his fingers frantically went behind me to locate the zip of my skirt. Realising what he had in mind, I quickly held the zip to prevent him from bringing it down.

“No Jimmy. Not here. Not in the office. My office. Anyone could walk in on us,” I said.

“But I have locked the door,” Jimmy said.

“But the dean has spare keys?”

Jimmy pulled back and stared at me bewildered.

“The dean has spare keys?” he repeated. “Does he go round opening the doors to offices of members of his staff? Are you even listening to yourself? Shirley. Too many excuses. You are either tired, not in the mood or giving lame excuses,”

“You don’t have to shout,”

“Yeah. I know. I won’t shout but I am so tired of your excuses,” Jimmy said while picking up his phone and car keys from my desk. He walked straight to the door, pulled the latch, looked at me once more and said,

“But the Dean has spare keys. Oh! Shirley,” and with those words, he walked out of the door.

I sat down in my chair, looked at the basket of goodies Jimmy had brought and started sobbing. No weeping was more of what I was doing.

“What was I thinking?”

…….to be continued.

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